


It Can Be A Dream

by Preqame



Category: Inazuma Eleven
Genre: Dissociative Identity Disorder, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Foreshadowing, Gen, Loss of Identity, M/M, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26095015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Preqame/pseuds/Preqame
Summary: Kazemaru had to quit soccer, quit Raimon, but not before saying goodbye to a certain somebody.
Relationships: Fubuki Shirou/Kazemaru Ichirouta
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	It Can Be A Dream

It wouldn't have felt right to leave without saying goodbye. He relied on Endou to hopefully leave the message along the team. That the usual 'Confident' Kazemaru Ichirouta will quit Raimon as of today due to his own cowardness and fear. The act alone of not telling the rest of the team himself, leaving Endou to pass the message, was proof enough Kazemaru didn't have it in him anymore. He didn't want to imagine the constant. 'Please don't go,' and the 'We can win this together,' berating him and making Kazemaru want to hide even more. 

Still, there was one other teammate Kazemaru had to confront before heading off. Fubuki Shirou, who is currently in the hospital bed and Kazemaru didn't know when he was going to wake up. He picked a time where Raimon wouldn't be seen during visiting hours, somewhere between practice and school time. The defender lay motionless on that dull bed of his, the curtains from the hospital line just making the experience more depressing. 

Kazemaru took his first awkward steps, peeking his head to see if the boy was conscious, debating to just flee and not leave a word. He was already here, he had to go through with it. Standing right next to Fubuki's bed, Kazemaru felt a small rush of comfort drizzle over him at his friend's state. Asleep. Not knowing. 

On that thin line of being alive or dead. 

Of course, the subtle breathing indicated otherwise. But oh how envious Kazemaru was.

There was room on the hospital bed, enough for two people, and Kazemaru awkwardly invited himself in. Sitting at the edge at first. The two have always been fairly close, so he assumed it would be fine to be at this level. Tilting his head again, Kazemaru frowned.

"F-Fubuki?" His voice cracked. He was really pathetic right now, wasn't he. It was a gamble over whenever he was listening, he decided to continue. "I'm gonna be leaving Raimon," he said it, straight to the point. Squinting to see if there was any reaction in the sleeping boy. Snow white. Kazemaru went to cradle one of Fubuki's hands, hands which were covered in bandages. 

"Ah… cold as ever," Kazemaru mumbled. This usual temperature would alarm someone but for Fubuki it was natural. Cold blooded, it must've been a side effect from his hissatsu and usual plays. Kazemaru felt the warmth of his own hand leave for Fubuki's, and he squeezed it softly. "I don't know if you can hear me or something but, I thought I'd let you know. About my decision." Was he really choking up? 

A soft squeeze in return made him jump. He quickly darted his eyes to Fubuki but was met with the same sleeping face. A sigh escaped Kazemaru, Fubuki didn't stop holding his hand. 

Don't go.

"You of all people should know how it feels...Fubuki," Kazemaru felt pained. "It wouldn't have felt right to leave without telling you." He lifted his legs to sit underneath them, crossing his legs on the bed while weirdly hovered over the sleeping boy. One hand was still being held while the other brushed the sickly white hair from Fubuki's face. Even with his hair, it felt like running his fingers through fresh snow. 

Eyelashes fluttered in response. Kazemaru was met with tired eyes, and a worried face. He didn't know how to respond, and just sat there looking back at Fubuki. Sadly. 

"Kazemaru?" His voice was weak. Viscous in a despairing sense. His hands squeezed Kazemaru's again but this time in confusion. "Where are you going?" 

Fubuki must've heard a little bit in his comatose state. 

"Away. I don't know for how long…but I left Raimon,"

"Oh…" Fubuki wished he was asleep again. "Okay…"

Kazemaru felt guilt stain his lungs. Fubuki was already in a bad place and he blamed himself again. That's when impulsiveness ran through his mind-

"Do you want to leave with me?" Kazemaru's eyes, which used to be filled with hope and accomplishment, was wide and lost. Scrunched up in defeat, glossy in never ending tears. "Away from all this pressure, enough of all the-the belittling and loss."

Kazemaru felt the guilt build up into a clump. Regretting the words spouting out of his mouth, as if someone else was talking instead for him. Fubuki had to process everything Kazemaru was saying, giving him only a blank slate. 

"...I don't know," Fubuki's voice was so fragile. The defender used his free hand to run a finger along Kazemaru's cheek, wiping a tear in the meanwhile. The coldness of it made him shudder and cry more. "I can't decide anymore. I don't have a choice or freewill,"

There was so little they knew of each other. Kazemaru would've told Fubuki otherwise but not in this state of mind. All they could do was relate to each other. That feel of defeat coursing through each other, unwanted and weak. 

Fubuki always liked how warm Kazemaru was. He loved running his fingers through his hair and along his soft skin. Today it was different. It was sticky from tears and sweat, tense from stress. "You'll get wrinkles if you're so tense," 

Kazemaru let out a soft chuckle in between a hidden sob. 

"I know how much it hurts," Fubuki said, cradling Kazemaru's jaw with dancing fingers. All with tired motions. "Begging for someone who doesn't exist...anymore," the last word a whisper. Kazemaru leaned into the touch and closed his eyes, nodding to the comfort in that broken voice. "I won't do that to you. If you want to leave, I understand. Find yourself," 

Fubuki brought Kazemaru into a hug, one that looked like it'd collapse any second. Kazemaru could tell Fubuki was giving his all, mustering all the strength through shivers and pain. "Just know I'll miss you Kazemaru…I'm so tired… I still don't know if this is a dream or not,"

"We could pretend it's a dream," Kazemaru's head hung low against Fubuki's chest. "You can be anyone in-in a dream. Fubuki, I wanna be stronger," he finally squeezed the smaller boy, the tubes making it a little hard to hug comfortably. "I don't want to be scared. But every time I imagine myself on the field again I-I freeze,"

Fubuki's hands followed Kazemaru's ponytail, his fingers finding its ways through the strands and gliding through them in an attempt of comfort and curiosity. 

"The chance- just the chance alone of losing is too much for me. Even with a slither of hope I don't want to risk that feeling anymore. It's not worth it anymore," Kazemaru said in between sniffs.

Fubuki's usual friend who has cheered him up and gave constant advice was now blubbering into his arms. If this wasn't defeating enough to see and experience, he didn't know what would. The Kazemaru who wasn't afraid to try new things, suggest compelling ideas and prompts was broken in his embrace. If Fubuki had any hope left, it would've been because of his usual demeanor and confidence in himself. His speed, his sure percentage of winning. 

This wasn't the Kazemaru he knew. Yet again, Shirou wasn't sure of himself either. 

"Wouldn't it be better to let someone else just take control… it's so tiring being awake and making your own decisions. It's not worth it, indeed," Fubuki added on. 

Ah, how broken they both were. Enough to let out a chuckle from the two. Laughing it off, the least they could do to mask their demise. 

"Let someone else control… that sounds nice," Kazemaru muttered. "Losing individuality but still being perceived as...me? What a sickening situation." He breathed in Fubuki one last time, it was like a winter morning. Crisp and refreshing, mixed with the bedding of the hospital and sterilization. Kazemaru knew what Fubuki was referencing to, that alter ego that haunted the boy. Kazemaru could always feel the unsettling aura that came from them, the way Fubuki's scent would change from snow to a thick amber oak. Like a burning birch during a snowstorm, it always tickled at his senses. 

Kazemaru felt guilty for being envious.

He didn't know if he was going to regret it, when the breeze carried the snow across pavements. Etched between gaps, clumping up and never melting. He didn't know that his dream had soon become a reality. The same sickly purple that tinted Fubuki's hairs would soon drain into Kazemaru's own eyes. It was the only color he could see. 

Kazemaru's wish came true. 

Kazemaru wasn't in control anymore. And that alone was blissful. 

He didn't know how long time had passed, what had happened during all that time. Like a fuzzy dark filter on his consciousness. It was suddenly lifted again when he was face to face with Fubuki on the field. The amber smell was finally gone from Fubuki's clothes.

Shirou's wish came true as well.

**Author's Note:**

> There was going to be a second chapter but I didnt rlly know how to continue it....


End file.
